


Domestic Bliss, I Know How Bad You Wanted It

by simpbot



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Projecting Onto GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Heavy Angst, Hurt GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Karl and Quackity are only there for a second, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Toxic Relationships, i think, kind of, no beta we die like men, this is all a vent im sorry, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpbot/pseuds/simpbot
Summary: It started off sweet and innocent. They were happy, and went on date after date. They spent practically every day together, doing something new and making the most of the time they had together. George was happy.Until he wasn’t. He knew he should’ve left when the sweet phrases turned threatening, when the loving gazes turned cold, and when he wasn’t allowed to even speak to his best friends without a consequence waiting for him. But he stayed. And why did he? That was something he simply couldn’t answer.(aka 5.9k words of a vent fic, title from Domestic Bliss by Glass Animals)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> hello. I'm very sorry for this vent fic. please read the tags if you haven't already, for trigger warnings. this revolves heavily around abusive/toxic relationships. if you are ever in this situation, please find your way out. i know how it is. it gets better, and you are very loved and cared for. you are not alone, and you are very worth it.
> 
> I'm very tired writing this, and it is not beta read. I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> also mild trigger warning for throwing up, but it's very brief and barely there.
> 
> title from 'Domestic Bliss' by Glass Animals.
> 
> I'll write something actually happy soon.

George laid under his mountain of blankets, only his head poking out, as he stared at his lightly colored wall. He hadn’t moved for hours, silent tears slipping down his cheeks as his body shook slightly. He was a mess. Truly.

He could hear his phone constantly vibrating from the floor, the place it landed after his boyfriend snatched it from his hands and tossed it, but he made no move to grab it and answer. He knew who would be calling. He knew it would be his best friends calling to ask him to play, or to ask him where he’s been. George had no motivation to answer any of the questions they had to offer.

He just wanted to be alone. That was all he wanted. His body and mind felt numb, but thoughts still raced through his brain at record speed as he hoped and prayed for this to all be over already. He knew that was a long shot, though.

It started off sweet and innocent. They were happy, and went on date after date. They spent practically every day together, doing something new and making the most of the time they had together. George was happy.

Until he wasn’t. He knew he should’ve left when the sweet phrases turned threatening, when the loving gazes turned cold, and when he wasn’t allowed to even speak to his best friends without a consequence waiting for him. But he stayed. And why did he? That was something he simply couldn’t answer.

Maybe it was the fear of what would come if he ever did leave. Maybe it was the threats his boyfriend placed against him regarding the thought of George leaving. That was more than likely the answer. But George tried to convince himself that it was because they loved each other, that _really he isn’t a bad guy, he’s just going through something._

George pulled himself out of his thoughts and brought his shaky hands to his pale cheeks, wiping away the tear tracks that made a home there. “Fuck..” He laughed bitterly and breathily to himself.

Finally, he managed to pull himself up from his bed and push the blankets off of his body. His head was throbbing, and his throat was dry from all the crying he had done.

Standing on shaky legs, George made his way to his bedroom door and unlocked it before pulling it open. His eyes were unfocused as he walked to his kitchen for a glass of water, almost like he was a lifeless zombie just mindlessly walking. It didn’t even register to him that he was overfilling the glass, until he felt the cold water making a puddle at his feet which caused him to curse under his breath and blink to refocus his eyes.

Quiet sniffles came from the brunette man as he wiped up the spill, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth while he tried to not cry again. He couldn’t break down again today. He had already cried for well over three hours today, he did not need a round two on those tears.

But he felt helpless. _Useless._ Like he served no good purpose for anything or anyone.

What was he here for? To be thrown around and treated miserably? To just bring in free views for his friends? A background character only brought into light when nobody else steps up to the plate?

That’s exactly how he felt. _Used. Worthless._ A bad friend, and an even _worse_ boyfriend.

Before he knew it, fresh salty tears were making their way down his pale but blotchy red cheeks. He tossed the paper towels into the waste bin, grabbed his glass, and made his way back to his room.

His bedroom door shut behind him, the glass being set on his desk as he grabbed his phone from the floor and plopped down into his desk chair.

George’s blurry eyes tried to blink away the tears pooling at his lash lines, as he scrolled through the missed notifications that built up over the hours he had been M.I.A. There were messages from all of his friends but the one who sent the most was Dream. As always.

Most of the messages were ones shaming him for sleeping for so long, others asking for him to join their streams, and a few asking where he was all this time and if he was alright.

Sighing, he set his phone down and opened Discord on his computer. He reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes again, sniffling and letting another soft breath escape his chapped and bitten up lips.

He was staring down his monitor now, at the voice channel that his friends were sitting in and had been in for a few hours now. His cursor hovered over the ‘connect’ button, as it was mocking him to join. Making fun of him for being so scared to do so. He barely registered the light _‘click’_ of his mouse before he heard the tell tale noise of him joining the call through his headset resting over his ears.

“George!” Came a loud cheer all at once from his friends, each of them loudly welcoming him to the call before the yelling of him joining so late came quickly after.

He winced, placing a hand on his forehead at the loud voices while his other hand turned down the volume quickly.

He cleared his throat, “Hello.” He spoke quietly, his voice a bit hoarse from the crying and yelling he did earlier.

“You good?” Came Dream’s reply, a worried undertone lying with it. George felt one corner of his mouth lift up in a small smile at that, but it faded just as quick as it came.

“I’m good. Why?” George replied with ease, used to the excuses he would have to make on certain days where the arguing was rougher than usual and when the tears were worse than others. “What are you guys playing?”

George got nervous when the call was silent for a few seconds, as if each of his friends were able to see through his lies, but let out a quiet sigh of relief when Sapnap said they were on the SMP messing around. George nodded to himself, “I’ll join.” He said softly, figuring some form of distraction would be good for him. He was just glad that he made it here _after_ the streams were done, since he had no motivation to fake happiness to thousands of others tonight.

The others in the call went back to messing around and laughing, continuing their loud conversations that consisted mainly of Karl and Quackity yelling. George stayed quiet, waiting as his PC loaded up Minecraft while he messed with the cricket ball on his desk.

As soon as he got on the SMP, George easily fell into his usual rhythm of things and let his mind blank out as he focused on playing with his friends and nothing else.

-

It had been around four hours now, and everything felt good for once. George was actually smiling and laughing with his friends. He was actually having fun, and he needed that so _so_ badly.

Soon enough, the goodbyes from Karl and Quackity came as the two of them had to work on separate things. Once they were gone, George was left with Sapnap and Dream while he listened to the two of them talk effortlessly about random things.

George’s camera had found its way on, along with Sapnap’s while he was showing off his new knives he had bought recently.

A smile was on George’s face, laughing at the way Dream was making fun of their friend lightheartedly. He was quietly watching their interactions, reaching up to run a hand through his hair when-

“Woah, wait. The fuck happened to your wrist, George?” Dream’s voice dropped the playful tone and was only full of seriousness and concern now. George furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his wrist, his eyes going a bit wide at the darkened fingerprint like bruises contrasting against his pale skin.

He shook his head quickly, “Nothing, I just- Um- H-Hit it on my desk earlier when I was fixing something.” George replied, stumbling over his words a bit when he was fishing for any excuse that came to his mind. He knew the one he gave was terrible, and he wanted to smack himself for it.

“Are you sure, dude? That looks-”

“It’s nothing.” George cut Sapnap off before he could finish his sentence.

The tension in the call was thick now, and George began to get anxious as he shifted in his seat at the silence that was hurting his ears. He cleared his throat, “I’m gonna go to bed.” He stated, leaving the call before his friends could get another word in.

-

It was worse today.

He didn’t mean to, but he made his boyfriend extra mad today. All because George was busy coding something for one of Sapnap’s videos, and ended up missing a few calls from his boyfriend which resulted in angry knocking at his front door and even angrier yelling in his small apartment.

George tried to defend himself, when he knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself.

He had gotten so angry and he just.. _Snapped._

George couldn’t remember a time where he had gotten _that_ mad before. He remembered him cursing his boyfriend out, yelling defenses at him as his boyfriend yet again was accusing him of cheating on him. George was tired of it all. He was so fed up with everything that had been happening.

It was all building up and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His body and mind were both so physically _tired_ from all the months they had been doing this. He missed when it was peaceful and he felt loved. All he wanted was a happy and healthy relationship, was that too much to ask for? He just wanted to be loved and cared for, to hold and be held. He wanted someone to look at him with love filled eyes, someone to sneakily take pictures of him when he wasn’t aware, someone who could make him laugh so easily, someone who listened. Someone like… _Dream._

Dream did those things. Dream cared for him. Dream was there for him. But Dream was out of reach. He couldn’t have him. Plus, he loved his boyfriend, right? _Right?_

He was still trying to convince his mind that it was true. George wasn’t a cheater. He was loyal and he cared for his boyfriend. He wouldn’t hurt him. But why did he let his boyfriend hurt _him_ all this time? If George was so careful and caring around him, why didn’t he get the same treatment? It was so confusing to him. He felt like it was all his fault. Like he was the problem. Maybe he was the reason this was all happening. He must’ve done _something_ to make all of his happen. Something was wrong with him.

George was sitting on his couch, staring at the floor as his boyfriend stood in front of him and read off his texts with Dream from the other night.

“You _love him?_ ” George flinched at the harsh tone coming from the man in front of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, repeatedly pinching his palm as he focused on a spot in the wood flooring that was darker than the others. “Answer me, George.”

“As a friend, only, that’s all.” George defended himself, wincing when he broke skin on his palm.

His boyfriend scoffed, “Yeah, okay. Like I’ll ever believe that.” He hissed. “Why were you two on call for _five hours_?” He asked, his voice beginning to raise now.

“We were working on a code..” George mumbled, his voice full of fear as it shook slightly.

The argument escalated after that, and George was left with a bruise on his cheekbone now that was far darker than the ones on his wrist. His salty tears were running down his cheeks, hiccupping sobs leaving his mouth as his boyfriend grabbed his chin and made him look up at him.

The smile he was met with made him feel sick to his stomach, the nauseous feeling boiling as his boyfriend wiped away a few tears. “You know how much I love you, _right_?” He asked, his fingers tightening their grip at the word ‘right’.

George only forced a nod, not even daring to give any other response to that. His boyfriend’s smile only grew bigger, as if it was mocking George. Taunting him. “Good boy.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss him. The kiss tasted of George’s salty tears.

As soon as his boyfriend left, George rushed to the bathroom and didn’t bother to shut the door behind himself. He could feel the nausea rising up and up in his throat, and he crouched in front of the toilet to empty his stomach into the porcelain bowl.

This was all his fault. Everything was his fault. He caused all of this to happen, because he just kept fucking up and going against what his boyfriend says not to do. He was the reason this was all happening. George was the only one to blame. He knew this was his fault. He knew he couldn’t get out of his easy, as much as he wanted to. He loved him, he swear he did. And his boyfriend promised he loved George as well. They were happy, they had to be. His relationship wasn’t failing, it wasn’t crashing from under their feet. They were okay. They were just going through a rough patch. That seemed to last a little over four months. It would end soon, George knew it had to. They would get through this and they could be happy, like they said at the beginning of the relationship.

George’s shaky hands flushed the toilet, and he pulled himself off of the cold tile floor to brush his teeth and wash his hands. When he saw himself in the mirror, it only made him cry harder than he already was. He didn’t know why he kept putting up with this, but he felt like he maybe deserved it.

He was a bad boyfriend. He talked to people his boyfriend asked him not to, and he ignored his boyfriend’s calls. He felt even worse at the sense of relief he felt whenever his boyfriend finally left his house. Love wasn’t supposed to be this way, was it? Shouldn’t he be sad and dreading his boyfriend’s departure instead of it being the other way around?

George shook his head, shutting off his bathroom light and making his way to his room. His phone was on his bed, a crack now in the glass from his boyfriend throwing it to the floor when Dream called.

Sitting on his bed, George put his head in his hands as his breathing was picking up its pace. His whole body was trembling, and his chest felt tight while his fingers gripped at his hair even tighter. The sobs escaping him hurt his throat from how harsh and powerful they were. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his throat was closing up and the walls were closing in on him.

His small bedroom suddenly felt smaller, and his mind was going at a million miles per second. He could faintly hear himself gasping for air, as he moved a hand to grip his shirt over his chest to pull the fabric away from his skin as if that would help in any way.

George released his hair, the roots having a slight sting from how hard he was gripping and pulling on it, only to clench his fist to dig his nails into his palm. He hissed in pain, feeling the sting from his nails into his skin that was already damaged from his pinching earlier.

He released another broken sob from his throat, opening his eyes and uncurling his fist. He looked at the red crescent shaped marks decorating his skin, his hand unable to stay still. He needed a way to calm down. But he didn’t know how. The one person who could always calm him was the one person he was scared to speak to.

Dream.

He was scared to death that Dream would find something out, that he would flip out and call George a weak and pathetic idiot and leave him. But maybe that’s what he deserved. Maybe he just deserved to be alone. Maybe that’s how it should be. The hand that was reaching for his phone stopped, instead only pushing it further away from him. He didn’t need to call Dream. He didn’t need to call anybody. He could deal with this alone.

God, he wished that were true.

The panic inside of him was only rising more and more, and he began to fear his boyfriend would come back. He knew he would not be happy if he saw George like this.

He always told George that crying was pathetic, something an attention seeker did. Something that a weak person did. He would always shame George for crying when they would argue, and claim that it was George’s way to guilt trip him when it was in fact George who was in the wrong. He would feed it into George’s mind that showing emotions was wrong to do. He told him that having anxiety was fake, and it was something all in his head that he could get over it if he just _tried_. George let him shame everything he did, while he sat back and watched.

He couldn’t count how many times his boyfriend had flipped a situation around completely and made George into the bad guy. If George was genuinely upset over something his boyfriend did, like flirting with a random person, suddenly George was the villain and his boyfriend _‘wasn’t allowed to have friends’._ If his boyfriend said something that hurt his feelings, George would have to listen to his angry words and claims that George was calling him a fucked up person.

George wasn’t even allowed to take _naps,_ of all things. His sleeping schedule was completely under the control of his boyfriend, as everything else was in his life. But he loved him. Right? He loved him. That’s what he said. And he proved it when he would buy George pretty flowers or other gifts to show his love for him after a fight.

George’s thoughts were disturbed from his phone ringing on his bed, the light of the screen making his dark room just a bit lighter.

Turning to see who it was, he saw Dream’s contact displayed across the screen. The name _‘Dream :)’_ taunting him, waiting for him to answer. And for what? So he can let down his best friend by saying he wasn’t in the mood to play hours of Bedwars tonight?

Regardless of how his brain felt, his hands picked up the phone and answered before he could stop himself and think rationally.

He was holding the phone to his ear, not speaking as the only sounds coming from him were his cries. “George..?” He heard Dream’s hesitant voice call out for him gently with a voice full of so much concern and worry that it broke George’s heart in two.

When George didn’t answer, Dream called out his name again. George let out a shaky sigh, a sob coming shortly after it. “Hey.” He forced out, his voice sounded as broken as he felt inside.

“George, what’s going on? Are you alright?” Dream immediately began to question, his voice sounding alert and the sound of him setting something down- most likely his headset- was heard. George laid back on his mattress, staring at the dark ceiling with a blank look as his breathing was still heavy and his chest still tight.

“I’m.. fucking great, Dream. How are you?” George laughed bitterly after he said it.

“George.. Please tell me what’s going on.” Dream begged, his voice so soft and caring. George’s heart clenched in his chest at that. He released another sob, a hand covering his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head even though Dream couldn’t see him.

He didn’t answer. He felt like he couldn’t answer, like he couldn’t speak anymore. All that came out of him were his broken and useless sobs, that provided Dream with no context as to what’s going on besides the fact that George is weak. Weak and stupid.

George yanked the phone away from his ear and ended the call without a second thought, tossing it to his pillows as he placed both hands over his face now.

He fucked up. He fucked up so bad. He shouldn’t have answered the phone. He should’ve just let it go to voicemail. He didn’t even mean to fucking answer. But now Dream probably viewed him as a loser, and pathetic. Just like his boyfriend said he was.

George felt so helpless at this point, and he had no idea what to do. All he knew was that his head was throbbing, sharp pains in his temples making him wince while the bruise on his cheekbone was doing the same. He felt confused and lost.

He felt even more confused when he woke up in the morning on his bedroom floor, a broken glass that was once on his desk now scattered across the wood floor.

His phone was dead now, long forgotten on his pillow through the night. George pushed himself up with his hands, looking around his room with groggy eyes while his head felt like it could explode from just how hard it was throbbing.

Then the events from last night settled in again, and suddenly George felt sick to his stomach all over again as he rushed into his bathroom.

After a hot shower, George made his way back to his room to plug in his phone. His hands were still shaky with nerves and his body felt weak, but all he wanted to do was lay down and pretend nothing ever happened. He easily fell back asleep, his body exhausted from everything that had happened.

When he woke up again a few hours later, the first thing he did was reach for his phone and scroll through the countless notifications he had received in the timeframe of his phone being dead. Which, of course, almost every single one was from Dream.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know how to end this exactly, I just wanted to be done with it. It ends sort of abruptly. I'm sorry this is so, so, bad.
> 
> I might end up deleting this.
> 
> This chapter is Dream's POV.

When George stopped answering his phone, Dream was worried sick. His heart was pounding in his chest ever since he heard the other man crying on the other end of the line.

He didn’t think he had felt so worried in his entire fucking life. He hated the fact that an ocean was between them. He needed to be with George in person, and he needed to make sure he was okay.

He didn’t even know what happened. That’s what scared him the most. He didn’t even know what got George so worked up, what made him break down. But  _ god,  _ did he wish he knew what it was so he could give it a piece of his mind no matter what it was.

Dream didn’t sleep at all for the hours that George stopped answering, all he did was continue to message George on every platform he could in hopes of getting a response  _ somewhere _ .

“I’m sure he’s fine, dude. Probably hurt himself or some shit.” Sapnap said, trying to calm Dream down as they were in a voice call together. It did absolutely nothing to help.

“You don’t understand, Sap. He sounded really fucking bad..” Dream argued, biting his nails nervously. He heard Sapnap sigh on the other end of the line, his chair creaking as he sat up more.

Sapnap cleared his throat, “Look, dude, he’s good. Trust me. It’s George we’re talking about.” He tried to force a laugh through the tension that even he felt. “Fucker is clumsy as hell.”

Dream tried to force a smile, but it didn’t work. No, something was wrong. Something had to have happened. He could feel it in his chest when George didn’t answer him. He felt the sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach that was throwing up red flags.

“Yeah. Okay.” He decided to brush it off and leave it be, for now. George would come around soon.

-

Soon wasn’t soon enough, in Dream’s book. The  _ ‘soon’ _ that came was almost a full twenty four hours later when George joined the voice channel unexpectedly.

Dream winced at the yells of Sapnap greeting George, very obviously happy and relieved to see him arrive much like Dream was.

“Hey, George.” Dream did his best to sound normal, but he wasn’t sure if it worked out very well.

“Hey.” George replied, and Dream wanted to cry when he heard his voice.

He had been so worried about him the past day, and hearing his voice just made Dream want to break down into tears and cry right then and there.

George was here. And he was okay. He wasn’t dead. He was fine. Right?

_ Wrong. _

All of the air was sucked out of Dream’s lungs when he noticed George had turned on his camera to show off a new cool toy he got for Cat, his eyes immediately noticing the dark and painful looking bruise on his cheekbone right under his eye.

Dream’s eyes were focused intently on the bruise, his blood running cold at the sight of it.

_ What the fuck happened? _

Did he fall? Did he hit it on something? Maybe he bumped into something? Maybe.. No. No, Dream needed to find out the truth. Now.

George was rambling about the toy he got, and how Cat loved it already, when Dream interrupted him without a second thought.

“Sap, can you leave for a few? I need to talk to George.” He spoke, doing his best to keep his voice steady and calm.

Sapnap got the hint and he gave a small confirmation before quickly leaving the VC, the call quiet when it was just Dream and George.

“Why’d you make Sapnap leave? I was telling you guys about-”

“What happened to your cheek? And don’t you dare lie to me.” Dream interrupted George again, his voice colder than he intended.

He saw George’s skin suddenly go a bit paler, like he had seen a ghost. He could see the way his body tensed up at Dream’s words, the way his eyes got a bit wider in realization as his hand lifted to carefully touch the bruise with his fingertips almost like he forgot it was there.

George wasn’t answering, just staring at the screen with a blank but scared look in his eyes. So, Dream tried again.

“George. I’m going to need an answer.” He said, sitting up straighter.

“I-I fell, and hit it on my desk?” George replied, the sentence sounding more like a question than anything.

Dream shook his head to himself, “Don’t lie to me.” He pried.

His eyes fell to George’s hand that began to shake at Dream’s words, while he lowered it away from his cheek and to his desk. He could see the fear in George’s gaze, his eyes darting all across his monitor.

George swallowed the lump in his throat, “I fell.” He forced himself to say. Dream could see right through his lies.

“You’re lying to me.” Dream’s voice still held a cold tone in it without meaning to, and he noticed the way George flinched from it.

The pieces slowly started to come together for Dream.

The amount of times he’s spotted a bruise on George’s arm, the excuses George would come up with to cover them not really making much sense. The times where George would join a VC and his voice would be shaky or strained, his laughter sounding forced. How George would refuse to let his friends meet his boyfriend, claiming he wasn’t a ‘people person’ and rushing to disconnect once his boyfriend was near. He noticed how George would change the subject when asked how things were with said boyfriend.

It couldn’t be.. But, what if? Dream’s body tensed up, his heart dropping in his chest.

“George, was it.. Is it..” He didn’t know how to word himself at all. How could you even come about this? What was the right way to word this without sounding terrible? He wasn’t sure there was a way.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat at the thought of his assumption, “I-Is Daniel doing this to you..?” He forced out, not sure if he even wanted the answer.

He didn’t miss the way George’s breath hitched, or the sound of the cat toy dropping from his hands to land on his floor.

“ _ What? _ ” George hissed, his voice cracking near the end. “You.. You think…” He trailed off, sounding dumbfounded. He began to shake his head quickly.

“Daniel loves me.” He finally said, but his voice sounded extremely forced like the words he was saying pained him to speak them.

Dream swallowed again, “George..” He pleaded, his heart racing in his chest all over again. “Please.. You need to tell me if-”

“No, Dream!” George suddenly yelled, cutting Dream off which made him jump in surprise from the change of volume.

“Daniel, he.. He loves me. He does. He wouldn’t hurt me.” George said, his voice sounding panicked now. “He loves me, Dream. He says it all the time, he does.. He-” George breathed in to try and gather air in his lungs.

Dream’s lips were parted in shock, worry, fear. The way George was acting about this, something wasn’t sitting right with Dream.

He shook his head again to himself, even if George couldn’t see him. “Then what really happened to your cheek? Why did you call me the other night crying  _ right after  _ he left your house?”

The tears in George’s eyes finally started to spill over. “Stop it.” He whispered. “He loves me, Dream. He tells me all the time and he-” A shaky hitched breath came from the brunette. “He buys me nice things after, and.. And he gives me kisses, and hugs. He’s just going through something. But _ really _ , he’s a nice guy. H-He doesn’t mean to..”

Dream’s heart was shattered in his chest while he was listening to George. He didn’t want to believe it was true. He wished his assumptions were wrong, and that George really was just clumsy as always.

Salty tears were falling from Dream’s eyes, as well as George’s, the sounds of George’s quiet cries being the only noise in the call currently.

“George..” Dream finally spoke again, his voice breaking. “Please leave him. Please.” He begged, watching George shake his head on the screen.

“He loves me. We love each other, Dream.” George said, almost sounding like he was trying to convince himself that it was true while also trying to convince Dream of it.

Dream sighed shakily, sniffling. “That is not love.” He stated, seeing George’s face fall into a look of hurt as his eyebrows furrowed together a little.

“How could you say that?” George’s voice cracked in the middle of his question. “You wouldn’t know, Dream. You have no right to say that.” He said, trying to sound strong but his voice was shaky and weak.

Wiping away his tears, Dream ran a hand through his hair. He stared at his desk, some scratches on the black wood from all the years of use. “He doesn’t love you if he’s doing  _ that  _ to you. He doesn’t fucking-” Dream cut himself off when he began to cry a bit harder now. How could he not see this sooner? And how long had it been going on?

The call was quiet again, apart from both of their cries now. Dream’s hands were in his hair, and George shut off his camera as he was tugging at his roots again.

“You have to leave.” Dream forced out, his tone pleading with the man he was speaking to. “Please, George..” He added. George’s chair creaked when he adjusted his position on it.

“We can leave together. We can- We can go far together, and we can be okay.” Dream suggested, speaking quickly as his eyes were leaking tears one after the other.

George scoffed, “You’re far from me, Dream! How are you meant to help me? You’re all the way in fucking  _ America _ . How can we leave together?” He raised his voice, sounding exhausted.

Dream flinched, his breathing all over the place.

“Come to America, please. I-I’ll buy you a ticket, okay? Just.. Please.” He begged him again, sounding desperate. “Just pack your bags, and come here. Please, George, please.”

George didn’t reply, and Dream was beginning to get anxious. His fingers were tapping on his desk. “George?”

“I can’t, Dream.” George whispered. “Daniel.. I- He wouldn’t be happy.”

Dream couldn’t help the anger he felt at George’s words, and he slammed his fists against his desk. “God  _ damnit,  _ George!” He yelled suddenly. “Why do you put up with his shit? You don’t deserve to be treated like this, and you need to get out while you can.” He sounded harsh as he snapped at his best friend.

The broken sob coming from the other end of the line made Dream’s heart break even more, as if that was possible.

Instead, he spoke softer now, “George, I love you. Okay? Seeing you hurting like this.. It fucking hurts me.”

No reply came, so, Dream continued. “I want you to be okay. I know it’s fucking terrifying, but you need to leave.. You have to, please..”

George sniffled, hiccuping after, “I’m scared, Dream..” He finally admitted.

Dream was scared too. He was terrified for his best friend. He wished none of this ever happened to him. George didn’t deserve this. He was so sweet, so caring, and one of the kindest people that Dream has ever met. George was always there for anybody who needed him, always one to jump to answer if somebody needed advice.

And he loved him.

He was in love with George. He had been for quite some time now. He always tried to push it away and mask it, since George had Daniel. But god, he loved him so much. He always got so excited when George joined a VC, when he would answer his phone, when he would reply to a message, anything. He had so much care for the brunette man. He wanted to give him the world.

He didn’t understand how somebody could be so  _ cruel  _ to George.

All he knew was that he wanted to get George as far away as he could. He wanted to keep the man safe, to wrap him in his arms and shield him from any bad that tried to come his way. He wanted to protect him, he wanted to show him what real love was like.

He knew it would take time for George to be ready to love again, though, and Dream was not going to push him. He could wait.

He knew that it took time. He would give George as much time as he needed to heal, and he would stay by his side through all of it. He wanted to let him know how loved he truly was, and how much Dream cared for him. He would do anything for him. Absolutely anything.

“Dream?” George’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Dream realized he never answered him.

He cleared his throat, “I promise you, George, I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.” Dream told him, wiping his red eyes.

George sniffled again, his mic picking up a shaky exhale. “Okay.” He whispered.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please refrain from any harsh comments. thank you. i’m very very nervous to post this. i don’t even know if i made sense, or if it’s just nonsense.


End file.
